


if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

by Jay_Grace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BUT she is only there as a plot device lmao, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Kissing, LISTEN listen they are in love, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Oikawa Tooru Has a Praise Kink, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Practice Kissing, Praise Kink, Smooching, an original character, brief mentions of what could technically be called, deadass sis is not important, fire motifs cos im a metaphor whore, head empty only pining for oikawa, i mean technically you cant prove it's not canon compliant, i will die on this hill, i wrote this in five hours in a fugue state, little suggestive but not enough to be rated m, only mentioned a lil lol, she just exists to give the lads a reason to get to smoochin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Grace/pseuds/Jay_Grace
Summary: He was drawn to Oikawa, not like a moth to a flame, no, his craving for the other was not instinctual; rather it was born from a burning, all-consuming hunger. A desire that raked at his being, his very soul every time he saw him. No, Oikawa was not his flame, he was his sun. And Iwaizumi was his Icarus, reaching ever-desperately at the sky, skin scorched from the fruits of his yearning.aka: iwaoi "practice" kissing
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92





	if i'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

**Author's Note:**

> howdy howdy i forgot i knew how to write, please accept this, haikyuu fandom, as a token of my good will. if the writing style seems a bit inconsistant that's cos i wrote the good bits in my notes app at 4am and the rest of it in a quesadilla-fueled trance at 2pm <3 shout out to my dear friend and muse, mj ( aka @yxurstruly here on ao3) for inspiring me to lose an entire night of sleep over this.

Goosebumps pricked at Iwaizumi’s tired arms. It was getting colder out, the summer heat finally fading into an autumn chill. His teeth began to chatter, but he paid them no mind, too caught up in what his best friend was chattering on about. Oikawa had forgotten to bring his jacket to practice, snatching Iwaizumi’s while the other was busy locking up. Hajime didn’t mind. The sight of Oikawa in his jacket was enough to keep the wing spiker warm for the first mile or so of their walk home.

“-wa-chan?” Oikawa asked, bumping his shoulder against Iwaizumi’s. He’d zoned out, missing his friend’s question.

“hm?” he hummed, trying not to focus too heavily on the quirk of the setter’s mouth as he laughed.

“I _said,_ ” Oikawa poked his forehead, “Tsunori asked me out today! We’re going out this weekend,” Iwaizumi felt his heart drop. _Tsunori,_ the name sounded familiar. Probably one of Oikawa’s many fangirls. _Gross,_ he thought, nose wrinkling at the idea.

Oikawa laughed at his expression.

“don’t be jealous Iwa-chan~” he bounced on the balls of his feet, “I’m sure you’ll get a girlfriend… someday,” he was trying to taunt Iwaizumi, but the wing spiker’s mind was elsewhere.

He knew this would happen eventually. Oikawa was bound to get bored of general praise, seeking a more constant, direct source to feed his ego. And that’s all this was, Iwaizumi was sure. He’d never heard Oikawa mention a Tsunori before, barely even registered the name. She was an ego-boost, someone to fawn over and flaunt for a few weeks before the setter would eventually grow bored and move on. Hajime turned the idea over in his head until he’d convinced himself it was true, unable to entertain the possibility that Oikawa actually _liked_ this girl.

“what about you, Iwa-chan?” the setter sidled up to his side, tossing a teasing arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders, “has anyone captured the eye of my dearest wing spiker?” he waggled his eyebrows.

Iwaizumi only stared at him. They’d stopped walking, Oikawa blinking at him expectantly.

“no.” Iwaizumi answered, brushing Oikawa’s arm off him, immediately missing the warmth.

“oh, come _on_ ,” Oikawa sauntered after him, tripping on his untied shoelaces as he tried to match Iwaizumi’s quickening gait, “surely there must be _someone-”_

“some of us,” Iwaizumi started, shooting a half-hearted glare at his setter, “are busy,”

“busy with _what_? Being moody?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, refusing to fall for Oikawa’s taunts.

“busy with high-school applications,” he raised an eyebrow at Oikawa, “speaking of, how’s that cover letter coming?”

Oikawa groaned, burying his face in Iwaizumi’s jacket sleeves.

“if you want to get into Seijoh-”

“shhh-”

“and drive Ushijima into the ground-”

“I knowww-”

“you have to _focus-”_

“ _Iwa-chaaan-_ ” Oikawa whined, pressing sweater paws over his ears. Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. Oikawa was smart, he just had a few self-destructive tendencies. Pushing himself too hard during training was one. Putting off important assignments until the last minute was another.

The two boys continued their walk in comfortable silence, eventually reaching Iwaizumi’s house.

“d’you wanna spend the night?” Iwaizumi asked, setting his bag down. Oikawa nodded, stripping off Hajime’s jacket and flopping face first onto his bed. He groaned into the sheets, wrapping his arms around one of the wing spikers stuffed animals. Iwaizumi turned away, hiding the blush that threatened his cheeks.

“wanna watch Sailor Moon?” Oikawa asked, sitting up and digging through his school bag. Iwaizumi nodded, grabbing pajamas from his dresser. He tossed a shirt and some sweatpants at the setter, turning around to give him privacy.

They were halfway through their second episode when Oikawa dropped his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, sighing heavily into the fabric. Hajime paused the video, looking over at his friend. Oikawa was like this sometimes, needlessly dramatic. It took him a while to say what he wanted to say, but Iwaizumi had learned with a little bit of patience-

“what if I mess it up?” Oikawa asked, looking up at Iwaizumi. There it was, the setter’s signature pout. His friend’s constant need for reassurance would be annoying if it weren’t so cute.

“the cover letter?” Iwaizumi guessed, earning him a glare in return.

Oikawa hit him in the head with the stuffed bear.

“ _no,_ Iwa-chan,” he rolled his eyes, shoving Hajime over so he could lay down, “the _date_ , with Tsunori, duh,”

_Oh._ Right. The date. Iwaizumi had almost forgotten about that, swept up in the way Oikawa gripped his t-shirt when the sailor scouts were in danger.

“you’ll do fine, she asked you, right?” Oikawa nodded, “that means she probably won’t care,”

Oikawa whined again, hugging the stuffed bear closer to his chest. _Lucky._

“what if she thinks I’m boring?”

“you’re not boring.”

“what if she tries to hold hands and my hands are sweaty?”

“bring baby powder.”

Oikawa gasped as if he’d been shot, sitting up and tugging at Iwaizumi’s sleeve.

“Iwa-chan! What if,” he lowered his voice, leaning closer so the wing spiker could hear him, “what if she tries to _kiss_ me?”

Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted at the thought. What _if_ she tried to kiss him? Would Oikawa want that? Surely not, after all, this was just an ego boost. It was just an ego boost.

“you’ll be fine, you’ve kissed people before, right?” Iwaizumi winced at his bitter tone, but Oikawa didn’t seem to notice, too busy inspecting Hajime’s sheets.

“right, yeah, I,” he bit his lip, avoiding Iwaizumi’s suspicious gaze.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi squinted his eyes, “you _have_ kissed people before, haven’t you?”

Oikawa looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I mean, _kinda-_ ”

“ _kinda-_?”

Oikawa groaned, pushing his face into the bear plush.

“what about the team sleepover? Truth or dare? You said you kissed Samara behind the bleachers-”

“I lied!” Oikawa screeched, throwing his head back until he was slumped against the wall, arms splayed beside him, plush bear laying dejectedly in his lap, “I wanted the third-years to think I was cool,” he said, crossing an arm over his face.

_God,_ Iwaizumi thought, _even in embarrassment he still finds a way to be a drama queen._

Oikawa pouted, looking up at Iwaizumi.

“what if Tsunori tries to kiss me, Iwa-chan?” he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, crawling over and flopping on top of the wing spiker’s lap, “I’ve never kissed anyone before! I’ll ruin it and she’ll _hate_ me,”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, shoving Oikawa off of him.

“just practice, you’re a fast learner, you’ll be fine.” He was getting tired of this conversation. Any warmth that came from the realization that Oikawa was still a kiss virgin had been snuffed out by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be for long. He had a date this weekend, and as much as Iwaizumi hated to admit it, Oikawa was probably going to get kissed.

“practice how?” Oikawa had settled for wrapping his arms around one of Iwaizumi’s legs, pulling at the baby hairs to get the wing spiker’s attention.

“I don’t- stop it! I don’t know,” Iwaizumi batted his hands away, “use your hand or something, look up kissing techniques on YouTube,” he shrugged, opening the laptop back up and hovering over the play button. Oikawa huffed, snapping his laptop shut and pushing it onto the carpet.

“that won’t help!” he whined, pushing his head into Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“what do you want me to do about it, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi was aware he sounded frustrated. It’s because he was. He just wanted to watch Sailor Moon with the boy he liked, _not_ have to help said boy with his stupid relationship drama.

Oikawa was quiet for a moment. He seemed to zone out, thinking about something, before his eyes snapped up to meet Hajime’s, huge smile gracing his lips.

“kiss me!” he said, gripping Iwaizumi’s shoulders, “if you kiss me, then I won’t be so nervous about screwing up with Tsunori!”

Iwaizumi was going through the five stages of grief. Where Oikawa’s mind was racing, Hajime felt like he’d lost the ability to think all together.

“you- what?”

“please Iwa-chan? Just one, maybe two, kisses? Just enough for me to feel like I understand,” Oikawa was pouting again, eye’s wide and lips wobbling. Honestly, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have been able to say no if he wanted to.

Carefully, as if he were handling glass, Iwaizumi reached up to cup Oikawa’s cheek. The setter gasped, smile stretching across his face.

“is that a yes?” he was shifting in place, knees knocking impatiently against Iwaizumi’s. Iwaizumi nodded, not trusting his voice to say real words.

Oikawa fist-pumped, scrambling onto his knees and straddling Iwaizumi’s lap. If he saw the deep blush settle over the wing spiker’s face, he didn’t say anything.

“is this okay? It’s what they do in movies,”

“s’fine,” it was not fine, Iwaizumi was dying.

Oikawa bit his lip, scanning Hajime’s face. He reached up with slender fingers, tracing the outline of Iwaizumi’s cheekbones. Iwaizumi choked back a shudder.

“okay,” Oikawa said, laughing nervously, “here goes,” he leaned in. Iwaizumi’s eyelids fluttered shut. He felt Oikawa’s nose brush against his, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi nodded, but Oikawa remained still.

He opened his eyes, scanning the setter’s wide ones. Oikawa was frozen, face hovering inches away from his own. Iwaizumi huffed.

“coward,” he said, lip twitching upwards as Oikawa broke from his spell.

“wh-”

Iwaizumi didn’t let him finish, surging upwards and cutting Oikawa off with a kiss. It was a fast one, hardly more than a peck, but it left Iwaizumi reeling. His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, a sensation that was only amplified as Oikawa moved his hand to the back of Iwaizumi’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

It was sloppy, neither of them had any experience, and Oikawa was obviously trying to make up for it in enthusiasm, but it was also everything Iwaizumi had ever dreamed of. He wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s waist, pulling him further down into his lap. Oikawa sighed, tilting his head slightly to slot their lips together. When they pulled away for air, Iwaizumi thought he might faint.

Oikawa looked _wrecked._ His hair was tousled from where Iwaizumi had kissed him, his face was flushed and dazed, and there were traces of Iwaizumi’s spit left on his lips, which he was licking absentmindedly.

“that was-” Oikawa took a breath, smiling shakily, “thank you, Iwa-chan, that was,” he gripped the wing spiker’s shoulder, “ _really_ good practice,”

_Practice,_ Iwaizumi thought with a chill, _right, practice,_ of course.

“’s nothing,” Iwaizumi’s words were slurred. He was well aware of the blush creeping down his neck, made worse by the way Oikawa wouldn’t get his hands out of his fucking _hair,_ but he didn’t care. Iwaizumi locked eyes with Oikawa, fisting his hands in his shirt and pulling him in again.

This kiss was slower than the others, Iwaizumi took his time, testing the waters and trying to find the right rhythm. Oikawa melted into his arms, sliding his hands through the wing spiker’s hair. When they pulled away this time, Oikawa sighed, resting his forehead against Iwaizumi’s.

“and you said _I_ was a quick leaner,” he teased, brushing their noses together. Iwaizumi was just glad the setter was too close to notice his blush.

Oikawa slid off his lap, reaching down to grab his fallen laptop. Iwaizumi said nothing, settling down next to him as Oikawa dragged the cursor over where they’d left off. Oikawa curled against Iwaizumi’s side; head leaned against his shoulder. Iwaizumi smiled, lifting a hand to rub gently at the setter’s tousled hair. Oikawa was going on a date this weekend. He was probably going to kiss her, maybe even more than once, but that didn’t matter anymore. Iwaizumi was his first, the only person in the whole world who knew what it felt like to kiss Oikawa Tooru. He was something special to Oikawa, and right now, that was enough.

* * *

The date went well. Oikawa babbled about it for a few weeks, bragging to the rest of their team about how cool and pretty Tsunori is, how much she likes him, where he’s taking her next, blah blah blah. Iwaizumi listened with a twisted sense of satisfaction, noting with a smirk the mental gymnastics Oikawa had to go through to keep from mentioning his _other_ activities; because for every date Oikawa went on with Tsunori, every walk and dinner and lunch break, Iwaizumi spent another afternoon with Oikawa in his room.

Oikawa, for all his confidence and stature, always wound up tugging on Iwaizumi’s hand, begging him to practice just _one more time_ , just until he feels like he’s got it, just until he thinks he can do it on his own, without Iwaizumi’s help. And Iwaizumi _was_ helping. Oikawa had gotten a lot better since their first time, Iwaizumi too. Hajime even found himself _looking forward_ to Oikawa’s dates, knowing he’d spend that Friday night doing his new favorite activity.

It was after of one of those nights that Iwaizumi found himself looking over at where Oikawa was tangled in his sheets, a dull ache forming in his chest. In the morning light, Oikawa looked almost angelic, hair was spread around him like a halo. Iwaizumi absentmindedly brushed a loose strand from his forehead. For the first time since they’d begun this endeavor, Iwaizumi wondered if he underestimated just how addictive Oikawa could be.

Iwaizumi had heard about the danger of drug addiction from school assemblies and commercials. As he looked over Oikawa’s sleeping form, he couldn't help but think that they ought to make a PSA about the dangers of kissing. Specifically, the dangers of kissing Oikawa Tooru. Sure, it was a bit of a niche warning, only really applying to Iwaizumi and a few other girls in their class, (girls he refused to think about, especially now) but it would've been nice to know ahead of time. Maybe he could have prepared himself for this feeling, this warmth that bubbled to the surface every time Oikawa brushed his slender fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair or nuzzled his cute nose into the wing spiker’s neck.

It was a pleasant warmth, but also a vastly overwhelming one. It was the feeling of relaxing at the beach, drifting off despite the rising tide lapping at your toes. Iwaizumi knew he had to be careful or else the feeling would consume him, but it was so hard to put space between himself and Oikawa. Not when the other boy was always bounding up to him during breaks, telling him in hushed tones about something new he wanted to try later. Not when he could wake up tangled next to him on Saturday mornings. Not when he could pull him into empty hallways and kiss him whenever he wanted.

He had a problem, he knew he did, but he was powerless to stop it. Iwaizumi was an ant on the playground and Oikawa was a kid with a magnifying glass, burning Iwaizumi alive for his pleasure.

Oikawa shifted, pressing his face deeper into Iwaizumi’s shirt. He stretched, sighing when he felt Iwaizumi’s hand rub his back. They didn’t talk much on mornings like these, falling into a now-familiar routine. Iwaizumi stood to his feet, twisting his back until it popped. Oikawa followed suit, grabbing the set of clothes he’d packed and heading off to Hajime’s bathroom to change. Iwaizumi’s parents both worked on Saturdays, leaving the two boys to make their own breakfast. After that, they worked on their homework.

Oikawa always left around noon, but he hung around later this time. Iwaizumi didn’t question it. The two were huddled up on the couch, watching some YouTube prank compilation when Oikawa started moving. Iwaizumi paused the video, waiting. Oikawa didn’t say anything for a moment, biting at his lip. Finally, he turned to look at Hajime, some unreadable emotion in his eyes.

“Iwa-chan,” he started, picking at his fingernails, “why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Hm. Iwaizumi hadn’t been expecting that. He kept quiet, knowing Oikawa had more to say.

“cause like,” he took a breath, “we’ve been practicing for a while now,” _okay,_ “and I know It’s really helped me, y’know, with Tsunori,” he blushed, “I guess… I guess I just figured you’d have someone by now…” he trailed off, eyes meeting Iwaizumi’s.

Oikawa searched his face. He was smart, he’d know if Iwaizumi was lying. But what was Iwaizumi supposed to say? ‘ _oh yeah, about that,’_ he thought, ‘ _yeah I just have a massive crush on you and the thought of doing this with anyone else makes me sick, hahaha’_. Yeah, no.

“um,” Iwaizumi blinked, searching for an excuse. Oikawa was staying quiet, _damn,_ he’s really not letting this go, “I don’t, I don’t like… girls,” Iwaizumi’s words came out stuttered, but they were technically true. Oikawa squinted at him, staying silent. Once he’d finished analyzing Hajime’s answer, he sat back with a huff.

“why don’t you have a boyfriend, then?” he poked at Iwaizumi’s face, “I’m worried about you, Iwa-chan, you’re going to die alone.”

Iwaizumi scoffed, secretly relieved that Oikawa took his confession well.

“I told you already, I’m busy,” he turned his attention towards his laptop, pressing play and effectively drowning out Oikawa’s rambling. _That was close,_ he thought, chewing on his lip.

* * *

Tsunori and Oikawa broke up a week later, and Oikawa stopped spending the night. Iwaizumi pretended not to be affected by it, but his body had become embarrassingly dependent on the setter’s touch. His skin tingled every time they brushed past each other in the hallway, every time they tripped over each other during games. Iwaizumi even found himself biting back a sigh when Oikawa leaned into him during class, asking to borrow a pencil. It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help the way his hands shook when Oikawa ran up to him after practice one Friday afternoon, asking if he could spend the night.

Thus, began a new routine for the two. It was no where near as regular as it had been when Oikawa was seeing Tsunori, but it was enough to keep Iwaizumi from almost fainting when Oikawa passed him a ball. They were both busy with entrance exams now, and Oikawa had finally begun to take things seriously. He still found time to go out with pretty girls, though, meaning Iwaizumi still found time for him.

Oikawa didn’t _need_ to practice. He hadn’t for a while. Iwaizumi assumed it was more of a comfort thing, a boost for his ego before the real deal. Iwaizumi had noticed a few weeks into their first year how much Oikawa loved being praised, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t take advantage of it.

They had just finished their cool-down stretches, cleaning up the remnants of a practice match while their teammates trickled out of the gym. The third years had left them to lock up, an honor that Oikawa had been ecstatic to receive. Iwaizumi brushed past Oikawa on the way to the storage closet, pausing to lean down and whisper,

“you did really good today, Oikawa,”

The setter’s gaze snapped up, blush darkening his already flushed cheeks. Iwaizumi’s mouth twitched into a smile, already turning back to his chores. Oikawa was fidgety the whole bike ride home, so it was no surprise when he jumped Hajime back at the house.

Iwaizumi hummed into the kiss, letting Oikawa back him against his bedroom door, opening his mouth at the setter’s nipping request. Oikawa’s hands traveled over his spine, fisting in the cloth of Iwaizumi’s shirt.

“didya see how proud coach was of you today?” Iwaizumi asked, moving his lips to trail over Oikawa’s flexing jaw. The setter shook his head, tilting his head to the side. Iwaizumi hummed, pulling a hand through Oikawa’s hair gently, “’s no wonder he let you lock up,” Oikawa was melting into Hajime’s arms, offering little resistance when the wing spiker switched their positions, “I bet he’ll make you captain someday,” Iwaizumi pressed his words into the setter’s skin, punctuating each syllable with a kiss.

Oikawa’s eyelashes fluttered, basking in the attention. He was an ego boost, Iwaizumi had known that for a while now, but _fuck_ , he’d be anything Oikawa wanted if he could keep him looking like this, head tipped back in pleasure, backed against Iwaizumi’s door, breaths coming in quick bursts. Hajime didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

* * *

Oikawa didn’t realize until half-way through his second year. He had scored a date with a pretty blonde in his maths class. He went home ecstatic, not because of his potential girlfriend, but because he finally had an excuse to kiss Iwaizumi again. The realization hit him like a freight train.

“hey, dipshit,” a pencil flew across the kitchen table, clinking against Oikawa’s reading glasses, “focus,”

Oikawa pouted.

“Iwa-chaaan,” he whined, leaning forward on his elbows, “I’m bored,”

“don’t care, we have a test on Monday-”

“Iwa-chaaaan,” Oikawa collapsed onto the table, grabbing at the wing spiker’s hoodie, “indulge me?” he blinked up at Iwaizumi, noting how his breath hitched.

“I indulge you enough already,” he said, pulling his sleeve out of the setter’s grasp. Oikawa groaned, burying his face in the textbook beneath him. He felt a calloused hand ruffle his hair, “finish this chapter, then we can take a break.”

Oikawa’s head shot up, smile already lighting up his features. Iwaizumi laughed at his reaction, pushing his face down playfully before returning to his work. Oikawa turned his attention back to his book, mind busy formulating the perfect plan for that night.

* * *

They were a perfect storm, an equal give and take. It had been a while since Oikawa had spent the night, the two of them busy with finals and practice. As much as Oikawa loved this, _needed_ this, even, school had to come first. He was gunning to be captain in his third year, and he wanted to take his team to nationals _slightly_ more than he wanted to kiss Iwaizumi. Only slightly.

Still, when Hajime had brushed against him after practice, pulling him away from their prying kouhai and asked if he had plans that weekend, Oikawa really had no choice but to say yes. He didn’t, of course he didn’t. Finals were next week, and they had a Shiratorizawa match after that. There was no time for dates, no space in Oikawa’s life for anything besides volleyball and studying. Still, Iwaizumi had always been Oikawa’s exception, so he’d made space. He’d catch up on studying over the weekend, it was fine. All that mattered in the moment was the taste of Iwaizumi’s Chapstick.

Oikawa rolled over, pulling Iwaizumi on top of him. He raked his hands over Hajime's tan back, fresh scratches blooming in their wake. Iwaizumi was his idol and Oikawa's touch his prayer. Everything he wanted to say, everything he _couldn't_ say, he said here, like this, with splayed fingers and wandering strokes, with bites and kisses and soft lips pressed against shivering skin. It was practice, yes, but not for kissing other people. It was practice for what he wanted to say, what he hoped he'd one day have the courage to say: _I love you, Iwaizumi._ He pressed it into his back, _I love you,_ into his lips, _Iwa-Chan, I love you,_ the base of his throat, _Hajime,_ the curve of his hips, _I love you, I love you, I love you._ It was a mantra played on repeat, his favorite song composed for his favorite person. He couldn't tell him, not yet, but he hoped Iwaizumi felt it. He hoped he understood through his touches, his prayers, how much Oikawa worshipped him.

* * *

Iwaizumi was drowning.

Oikawa flipped them over, rolling his hips against Hajime’s at a tantalizing pace. Iwaizumi arched into him as the motion continued, moaning under the setter’s touch. Oikawa's hold on his hair tightened, pulling his head to this side as he kissed down Iwaizumi’s jawline.

"Feel good?" Oikawa asked, continuing his slow assault on Iwaizumi's sanity. The wing spiker nodded in response.

"Mhmm," his voice was hoarse when he spoke, "you- you've gotta, ah, teach me that-" his words were cut off by Oikawa sinking his teeth into the other boy's flesh, nipping at his defined collarbone.

"'S okay if I leave marks?" He asked out of courtesy. Iwaizumi knew he would anyway, regardless of his answer.

Iwaizumi slipped a hand into Oikawa's tangled hair, tugging harshly. Oikawa moaned into his chest, the vibration sending shivers down his spine.

He was drawn to Oikawa, not like a moth to a flame, no, his craving for the other was not instinctual; rather it was born from a burning, all-consuming hunger. A desire that raked at his being, his very _soul_ every time he saw him. No, Oikawa was not his flame, he was his sun. And Iwaizumi was his Icarus, reaching ever-desperately at the sky, skin scorched from the fruits of his yearning.

Oikawa's hands burned as they hiked up Iwaizumi’s shirt. Hajime distantly wondered if there was any place left that Oikawa _hadn't_ touched, any piece of him that hadn't been christened by hot, wandering hands. He wondered if he'd be forced to live the rest of his life in a body that had long since been claimed, every inch of skin airbrushed by Oikawa's familiar burn. His hands traveled over Iwaizumi’s chest, setting his nerve endings alight. It was getting hard to breathe. Iwaizumi felt as if he were teetering on a great precipice, body swaying from the scorching wind at his back. Oikawa, his best friend, his rock, his stupid fucking _crush,_ was standing beside him, hand in burning hand.

Iwaizumi's eyes snapped open from where they'd been screwed shut in pleasure. He grabbed Oikawa's wrists, pulling them away from the waistband of his pants. His breath came in short bursts. Oikawa looked up at him, confused. Iwaizumi broke.

"I- we can't," he tripped over his words, voice shaking with the effort to say them in the first place.

"Iwa-Chan, wh-"

"We can't do this anymore," his fingernails dug into Oikawa's skin, causing the other boy to wince. _Good,_ a dark part of him thought, _see how it feels._

Oikawa pulled them up, struggling with Iwaizumi’s hands still gripping his wrists.

"Wha- why not? I thought you wanted to practice?" His eyes were so earnest, he really had no idea, huh? No idea what he put Iwaizumi through, no idea how much it hurt to even look at him when they kissed. Iwaizumi scoffed at his words, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his chest.

"Practice, of course," the laugh came out wetter than he wanted, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. Oikawa noticed, because of course _now_ he wants to start noticing Hajime’s pain. Iwaizumi let go of his hands, batting them away when Oikawa tried to reach for his face.

"Iwa-chan, was it- Did I do something?" Oikawa's voice was wobbly and laced with doubt. Iwaizumi suddenly felt very, very tired.

"I think you should go, Oikawa." He said, standing up and crossing to his door. He turned the handle, refusing to meet Oikawa's wide-eyed gaze.

"Iwa-ch-"

"Now, Oikawa," his bones felt like lead. A shiver wracked through his spine. He was cold, colder than he'd ever felt since meeting the setter.

Oikawa stood, silently making his way to the door. He paused in front of Iwaizumi’s bowed head, as if searching for something to say. When no words came, he sighed, exiting the room.

Iwaizumi barely waited until Oikawa had crossed the threshold before slamming the door behind him, locking it just in case. He crashed into his bed, wrapping the abandoned comforter around his tired, shaking limbs. A sob ripped through his chest, tearing past his throat as a wave of bile hit his stomach. He'd done it, he'd ended things, just like he knew he had to. This was the right thing to do. For the both of them, he needed to move on, and Oikawa needed a confidante that wasn't in love with him. _This was the right thing to do._ He _knew_ that, repeated it to himself like a prayer. He heard the distant sound of his front door shutting, bike tires scraping over his driveway. Another sob wracked his aching form. _It was the right thing to do._ But why did it hurt so bad?

Iwaizumi wasn't at school the next day. Oikawa had texted him the previous night to let him know he got home okay. There was no reply.

Oikawa sent another text when he left practice, _I'm here when you want to talk._

Iwaizumi did not want to talk. He wanted to hold Oikawa again, wanted to press their lips together until they became one. He felt the familiar sting of tears behind his eyes. Iwaizumi was powerless to stop them as they fell, soaking the pillow Oikawa had pressed him into the previous night. _God,_ he missed him. Missed his soft touches, missed the gentle way he held Iwaizumi when they finished, cradling his head against his chest. He missed the bounce in Oikawa’s step when he knew they had plans that night, fuck, he even missed the way he’d tease Iwaizumi in the locker room, poking at the hickeys he’d left.

No, Iwaizumi did _not_ want to talk, not until he was sure he’d be able to hold all of that inside. He’d been burning alive for three years, it was time for him to cool down.

* * *

Oikawa stood outside Iwaizumi’s house, hand hovering over the doorbell. Hajime’s parents weren’t home, an old familiar silence that never failed to make his pulse jump, even now. He’d given Iwaizumi a week. One whole week to calm down and collect himself. He wanted to give him longer, knew he probably _needed_ longer, but this rift was starting to affect their practice and well, school comes first.

Oikawa took a breath, clenching and unclenching his hand before pressing down on the doorbell, waiting a few beats before releasing. He heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Oikawa was no coward, but in that moment, he felt like running. He could hide behind the trash cans, pretend to be a ding-dong-ditcher. As the knob turned, Oikawa realized that plan was pointless. There had been enough pretending already, it was time to come clean.

The door swung open, Iwaizumi standing in the opening it left. The two boys stared at each other, neither wanting to say the first word. Hajime moved to shut the door, but Oikawa was too fast, squeezing himself past the wing spiker just in time. Iwaizumi froze, refusing to meet his gaze.

“we need to talk, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, putting on his captain voice. Iwaizumi’s hand hadn’t left the door handle.

“what’s up,” he asked, finally turning to face Oikawa. His eyes were bloodshot, heavy bags stretching the skin beneath them. Oikawa’s heart clenched at the sight.

“Iwa-chan,” he reached for the boy’s hand, pulling back when Iwaizumi flinched, “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Iwaizumi cut him off with a harsh laugh. His voice was bitter when he spoke.

“ _you’re_ sorry,” Hajime’s eyes blazed into Oikawa’s, forcing the setter to take a step back, “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

Oikawa shook his head, breath hitching. Iwaizumi scoffed at him, releasing the door, and pacing over to the kitchen. Roughly, as if he were trying to force himself to look composed, he poured a glass of water, downing it in one gulp.

“how could you?” Iwaizumi’s voice cracked and he cursed under his breath. This was it; the confrontation Oikawa had been preparing for. Hajime set the glass down, gripping the counter instead, “how could you know, you didn’t even know what was happening,” in a quiet voice Oikawa had to strain to hear, he added, “you still don’t.”

Oikawa watched, gears in his brain working overtime as he tried to work this out. He’d hurt Iwaizumi somehow, probably has been for a long time. But Hajime _enjoyed_ their kisses, Oikawa knew he had, so then why-

Oh.

_Oh._

Iwaizumi smiled, a broken, bitter thing.

“spoke too soon,” he said, swiping at his eyes, “you don’t have to apologize, Oikawa, it’s not your fault,” Iwaizumi refilled his glass, “not really,”

“you’re in love with me,” Oikawa breathed, all of the pieces finally falling into place. Everything, the touches, the sighs, the endless, constant patience. Of course, _of course_ Iwaizumi was in love with him.

“yeah,” Iwaizumi swirled the water, avoiding Oikawa’s wide-eyed gaze, “I am.”

Things were quiet for a moment; a single fleeting drop of calm before the storm. Oikawa crossed the room, stopping inches away from Iwaizumi’s form. This close, he could hear the subtle hitching in the wing spiker’s breath, the almost imperceptible sound of someone fighting back tears.

“Iwa-chan,” he spoke, hands reaching up to cover Iwaizumi’s, pulling the water from his grasp, “Hajime, look at me,” the use of his first name pulled his gaze upwards, freezing when he noticed their proximity.

“you don’t have to apologi-”

“I’m not going to,” Oikawa cut him off, shaking his head. He curled his fingers between Iwaizumi’s, “I can’t, I won’t apologize, because,” he smiled, squeezing the wing spiker’s hands, “Iwa-chan, Hajime, I love you too,”

All the air Iwaizumi was holding in escaped his body in a rush, he sagged against the counter, letting himself be supported by Oikawa’s arms wrapping around his waist.

“you- what?” he desperately searched Oikawa’s face, scanning for any sign of trickery. No, Oikawa wouldn’t do that, not to him. _Because,_ he thought, warmth blooming in his chest, _because he loves me._

Oikawa pressed their foreheads together, laughter bubbling past his lips.

“how long?” Iwaizumi asked.

“since first year, probably, although I didn’t notice until last year,” Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi closer, watching him process the news. A scheming smile spread over the wing spiker’s features.

“I win,” he said, pulling back. Oikawa raised an eyebrow, “I win,” Iwaizumi repeated, “I’ve had a crush on you since junior high,” Oikawa gasped.

“no-!”

Iwaizumi laughed at his reaction.

“mhmm, all the way back in our second year, after you started growing your hair out,”

Oikawa looked at him, mystified. Five years, Iwaizumi had felt this way the whole time, and said _nothing._

“how did you manage? I’ve only known for a year and a half and it’s been _hell_ ,”

Iwaizumi hummed, looking up at him.

“I didn’t, I took what I could get, whatever you were willing to give me-”

“until you couldn’t anymore,” Oikawa interjected. He pressed a kiss to Hajime’s forehead, pulling him into a hug, “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, I should’ve confessed as soon as I realized,”

“you really should have,” Iwaizumi said, nuzzling into the embrace. He was mostly teasing, but a part of him wondered what would’ve happened if Oikawa had confessed, where they would be right now. _Probably doing more than just kissing_ , he guessed.

“I suppose,” Oikawa said, pulling away, “we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he winked.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled in for a kiss anyways. It was exactly how he remembered, hot and full of yearning. Only this time he knew he wasn’t the only one being burnt. You can’t fight fire with fire, but Iwaizumi didn’t want to fight anymore. He relaxed into his lover’s arms, sighing into the blaze instead.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they smooch until one of them knocks over the water glass because they are silly. hope you enjoyed!! comments and kudos are my bread and butter babes, i eat them for power <3


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